Look there.

The sun is rising

over a path

by a winding river.

Green shades vibrate

by crystal blue sky

where an egret flies perfectly.

It is white, a release from God.

The pillars of the bridge

catch the last moon glow

and I see myself

ascending fern-lined banks

like an astronaut

who landed on Earth by mistake.


I do not know if it is white where I am going.

But it is white now.

One aide hoists me up in a basket,

One changes sheets. one brings pills.

My feet dangle,

foolish, clawed, yellowed.

No one notices the tan-line

above the sole

of the running shoes I used to wear.